


Bro, You Literally Got Hit By A Bus

by emmals16



Series: Whumptober 2020 and Febuwhump 2021 [1]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Brotherly Love, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Older Sibling Leonardo (TMNT), Hurt Leo, Hurt/Comfort, I make you EARN it, Leo!Whump, Medical Procedures, Michelangelo (TMNT)-centric, Protective Leonardo (TMNT), Protective Michelangelo (TMNT), Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, no beta we die like men, the fluff is the last chapter, they probably aren't correctly described medical procedures don't quote me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27079585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmals16/pseuds/emmals16
Summary: For Whumptober 2020Prompts: Carrying, Broken Bones, Concussion, Internal InjuryLeonardo literally gets hit by a bus, and Mikey's forced to pick up the pieces with the limited time they have on their metaphorical clock. Except, he realizes he isn't exactly medically qualified to take care of a problem like this.
Relationships: Leonardo & Michelangelo (TMNT)
Series: Whumptober 2020 and Febuwhump 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984523
Comments: 14
Kudos: 189





	1. Chapter 1

Mikey’s sure that the whole cause of this will strike him as funny later. Not that the situation itself is funny, he’s sure of that. Nothing about the position he’s found himself in right now, tucked under his oldest brother’s arm as they trudge one step at a time to a somewhat hidden location, is anything resembling funny. 

But, like...come on... 

_ “Hello? Mikey—” _

_ “Raph! Put Don on, Leo got hit by a bus—” _

Hit. By. A. Bus. 

Literally. 

So, a week from now when Leo’s complaining to him about Master Splinter and Donnie tying him to his bed so he’ll rest some more, Mikey can’t even say, ‘Relax Leo! You were hurt bad— looked like you got hit by a bus.’

Because he  _ did. _

_“Woah, woah, wait,”_ Mikey can hear Raph’s huffing breath through the phone only slightly more than Leo’s own right next to him. That means that Raph’s running from, or to, _something_ , _“He_ what? _The Hell did you do this time, Mikey?”_

Mikey grunts when the two of them lose their balance, tumbling sideways. Luckily it’s Mikey’s side, so he easily throws out the hand that his phone is in, catching them on the chipped brick wall of the alleyway. 

There’s puddles everywhere, sprinkling rain falling on him and Leo and he can feel the small trembles emanating from his older brother every few seconds. Like Leo’s trying to suppress them or something and, honestly, that leaves a bad taste in Mikey’s mouth as he shuffles, supporting them by his elbow against the wall and presses the phone back to his ear. 

Raph’s still talking, “ _ —ust put the idiot on the phone, would you?” _

_ “Yeah, uh…” _ Mikey glances sideways at Leo. The guy has his eyes scrunched closed, probably because he couldn’t open his right one if he tried— with the blood running down to it, but his pallor suddenly strikes him like a slap to the face and he quickly looks away, “ _ That’s not gonna happen, I don’t think.” _

Raph, for all his brashness, actually pauses. Mikey knows it's not just because of a loss of signal or because he’s gotten distracted because all he can hear on the other end is his heavy breathing. When Raph does speak, however, Mikey could have mistaken it for anyone other than Raph,  _ “Is...is he okay?” _

“ _ Uh—”  _ Leo’s body jerks spasmodically as a cough erupts from him, his arm tightening around Mikey for a moment. Raph apparently hears it judging by the hitch in his breathing at the miserable sound,  _ “I, uh, I don’t know...don’t think so…” _

There’s another pause.

_ “Right,”  _ Raph’s voice is back to normal, thank God, “ _ I’m on m’way to Donnie right now, we got split up on our side. I’ll catch him up on the situation, just focus on moving. Get to our meetin’ area like we all planned and we’ll be there soon, ‘kay Mikey? _

Mikey nods despite himself, “ _ Yeah, no prob, dude.” _

_ “Call if ya need help— I  _ mean _ it.” _

Then the call ends without another word edgewise and Mikey struggles to slip the phone back into his belt. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before pushing off the wall. Leo doesn’t say a word as they begin trekking back through the brightening alleyway. 

Brightening…the sun is coming up already?

“Shit…”

Leo grunts, offering a halfhearted glare that Mikey can’t help but smirk at. It’s sort of... _ sad _ looking. Like a kicked puppy. Leo’s got blood coating the left side of his face, forcing his left eye shut, from a nasty gash on his brow. Seems like something’s wrong with his left leg. A totally  _ nasty _ collection of bruises run down his left arm. If Mikey really looked, which he  _ really _ didn’t want to, he’s pretty confident that Leo’s left shoulder is completely misshapen. And just hanging there. Leo wasn’t even  _ attempting _ to move it. Mikey’s no medical expert, Hell,  _ Donnie _ ’s not even a medical expert, they’re all just 15 after all, but it looks dislocated. 

Mikey’s had a dislocated knee before. When they were 7 or so, he thinks… took a fall off his newly acquired skateboard at an intersection in the sewer tunnels. He doesn’t really remember much of what happened after that, just that he stumbled home crying his eyes out. That was back when Splinter still took care of their injuries and illnesses so Mikey remembers being given some funky tasting tea and then conking out for what ended up being five hours. Blue eyes behind a book was what greeted him when he finally woke up accompanied by giggles from his other older brother...he didn’t live that event down for years. Even Donnie teased him about it when it benefitted him.

The point being that dislocated limbs were  _ not _ fun.

And Leo glaring at him about  _ cursing _ of all things while he limped alongside him was just... _ sad. _

“Raph said to get to our meeting spot,” Mikey tells Leo through his pants for breath. He was getting tired bearing both of their weights already, “He and Donnie got split up, though—”

Leo twists his head sharply and Mikey already hears what he’s about to say before Leo conjures the breath to say it, “They’re both okay! They’re both okay and once they meet back up they’re headed for where we’re going. So, y’know, it’s kind of a race I guess.”

He doesn’t mention how they don’t  _ actually _ know if Donnie’s okay because Raph didn’t say anything else about him, but since Leo doesn’t seem to catch onto that fact Mikey foregoes bringing it up. 

“That’s good,” Leo mumbles, and Mikey starts at how his head bobs his eyes staring tiredly ahead of them, “It’s good...that they’re okay.”

“Heck yeah it is,” Mikey stops for a second to get a better grip on Leo before continuing forward. He can see the sun illuminating the street at the end of the alleyway. They need to get to the other side of the road, but...with traffic starting to pick up and Leo’s breath already sounding like it was echoing through a garbage disposal (he doesn’t quite think he’s ready to think about that either, at this moment. He’s done pretty well at ignoring it up to this point, too, but he’s certain it’s gotten worse since they first started moving. Get to Donnie. Just get to Donnie.) Mikey doesn’t think they’d be able to sneak their way across. 

And heading underground isn’t an option either. Leo’s arm is messed up. He wouldn’t be able to climb down the ladder even if he had the energy to do so. 

“Uh…” Mikey comes to a stop glancing up and behind and all the way around him, suddenly realizing that he isn’t sure  _ how _ they’re going to get where they need to go. There was a reason they always did their business at night when the streets weren’t so busy and people weren’t literally  _ everywhere _ , this just so happened to be a messier task for  _ all  _ of them, Raph and Donnie, too apparently, “Leo?”

Leo inhales sharply, a hitch in his breath turning into a low and most likely unintentional whine as he speaks, “What’s happening?”

It kind of startles Mikey how out of it Leo is...like how he’s sort of on autopilot unless Mikey speaks to him directly. It’s just...weird, “I...don’t know what to do.”

Leo straightens up slightly beside him and  _ God _ , Mikey did  _ not _ want him doing that. Didn’t want Leo to feel the need to put on a ruse and pretend like he has an idea just to put Mikey at ease. Only then does he notice the rain washing the blood down Leo’s body, turning the water collecting on the ground beneath them a coppery color. Mikey bites his lip. 

“Explain.”

It’s clipped, short, and stronger than Leo’s voice has been for the past ten minutes, at least. 

“The sun’s up and we need to get across town to our meeting spot,” Mikey explains quickly, glancing around them to be sure they still weren’t being followed. That reminds him, “I don’t know if we’re being tracked so I think we should keep moving.”

Leo hums, his one open eye glassy but flickering around their area in thought. It moves skyward and Mikey already feels himself rolling his eyes, “Roof— safety from another ambush. Is an apar-apartment complex...might have a supply shed. Could get across...across the street. The roof access over there…”

“Yeah, forgive me oh enlightened one but I don’t think we’re really capable of roof hopping at the moment—”

“Just—” Leo chokes on the word, a croak erupting from his throat and Mikey feels the hand around him scramble to unwind from around his waist. Mikey doesn’t really process what’s happening until Leo’s falling away from him, his now freed hand clutching at his chest plates as he collides into the opposite side of the alley. 

A pained yelp makes it past the intense gasps when Leo’s shoulder takes his full weight. Mikey’s distantly aware of his phone buzzing in his belt. 

“Leo,” Mikey rushes towards him on uneasy feet, “Jeez, Leo calm down, just—” 

There’s one high pitched inhale before a heavy cough that sends blood splattering down Leo’s chin. Ice encapsulates Mikey’s heart and he feels himself covering his mouth with both hands, eyes wide. One step away is all Mikey gets. 

Then Leo’s knees give out. 

Mikey finds himself on the ground without really knowing how he got there. He doesn’t see Leo and he only notices then that he’s pressed chest-to-chest with his oldest brother, barely holding him up anymore, after listening to the gargled breathing for a long moment as though it were a mantra. 

“Oh…” is all Mikey can think to mumble.

Leo whines out repeated breaths, body trembling against Mikey, before whispering in the softest voice he thinks he’s ever heard from his oldest brother, “M-maybe not?”

And Mikey just  _ has _ to huff a laugh at  _ that _ because,  _ yeah!  _ Duh! Maybe not. 

Only Leo could get hit by a bus...no, no scratch that. To go even further, only Leo could manage to get to Mikey  _ just in time _ , not only watching his own back but always  _ always _ watching his stupid little brother’s back… his stupid little brother who had gotten pushed into the  _ middle of the street _ by their pursuers. Too distracted by their guns to actually pay attention to the giant, lit-up vehicle shooting towards him like a bullet itself. Driving down a darkened street in the middle of Jersey, it wouldn’t have even slowed down…

And Leo,  _ fucking _ Leo, charging through the crowd of Purple Dragons separating them as though they weren’t armed with guns and knives and clubs and  _ shoving _ Mikey out of the way with enough force that the air got shoved from Mikey’s lungs at impact. It was a decking that would have made any hockey player proud and Mikey had been  _ angry. _

Too focused on his own spasming diaphragm to notice the fact that the bus was a good twenty feet past where he remembered seeing it last with a random katana a little further than it. And Mikey had  _ hesitated _ because...

Without Leo’s shell...well, he would no doubt be dragging home a corpse at this moment. 

Mikey’s nails dig into his brother’s shell, fingers ghosting over the single spider webbed indent on the lower left side, and he doesn’t feel shame when he feels the overwhelming need to press his face into the trembling crook of Leo’s neck for just a moment. Because, damn it, he’s the little brother and he’s having a difficult time keeping it together at the moment. 

He isn’t surprised when he feels Leo’s hand on his shoulder in the comforting way Leo always does, and he isn’t surprised when Leo’s whispering voice comes through to him and he realizes  _ very  _ suddenly that this isn’t right— 

Mikey pulls his face away from the crook of Leo’s neck and and pulls back just enough to look Leo in the eye, “We’re not going to make it to the meeting place, Leo.”

The watery sound of his voice and his no doubt glossy and red-rimmed eyes have Leo tightening his hold on Mikey’s shoulder. He has to focus, and Mikey notices how he forces his feet back underneath him, “You can.”

Mikey’s blood runs cold, “ _ No— _ ”

“I don’t have...I don’t have time, Mikey”

“What is it?” Leo doesn’t just _admit_ to something being wrong with him and even though it’s blatantly obvious, the admission is what has Mikey’s heart pumping wildly, “Please say you broke a tooth or something.”

Leo closes his usable eye, “Don’know...some-something inside.”

“Oh...oh, um, jeez,” Mikey knew deep down, but the affirmation...the fact that  _ he’s _ the one in this position when Leo needs  _ literally anybody else _ . Even  _ Raph _ would know more about what to do. Or, would at least have been able to throw Leo over his shoulders and charge across the street without a care. Donnie would have had Leo bandaged like a mummy by now. April and Casey would have a  _ car _ , probably, and would already be back at the lair. And Splinter...Splinter’s just mystical as Hell and would have done  _ something. _

“M-Mikey…”

Mikey suddenly realizes that he’s been staring off into the space past Leo’s head, dead silent as Leo struggled to simply stay on his feet. Mikey shakes his head violently, pulling Leo’s good arm back around his shoulders and hefting the oldest up higher. 

“You...mmm,” Leo’s head thumps against Mikey’s shoulder, “You need’t find Raph and...and Don.”

“And how am I going to do that dragging you around?” He snaps, and yeah, maybe he’ll feel bad about berating his obviously somewhat delirious brother later once they’re all home and warm and  _ safe _ . He doesn’t feel much guilt now, though. At least not about  _ that _ . Leo looks over to him pathetically, and Mikey has enough left in him to feel some satisfaction at getting no response, “I’m not leaving, dude. You have a better chance of hearing a genuine ‘good morning’ from Raph than that.”

Mikey knew he couldn’t handle this by himself. This situation wasn’t where he shone the brightest, and so— 

Ahead of them was a cellar access— lock easily broken and obviously never used by the occupants. 

—he was going to go with what is  _ always _ his plan B. Call his brothers. 

Well, his  _ other  _ brothers. 

He manages to get Leo down the stairs into the cold cellar. And it’s relatively simple to get Leo down to the floor. The problem comes with keeping him upright however, and it becomes so obvious that that isn’t going to happen that Mikey just let’s Leo lay down for a second. Just to give his big brother  _ something _ to be comforted by in this situation. 

He pulls his phone from his belt as soon as the cellar door has slammed closed and a broom handle has been threaded between the handles. The  _ last _ thing they need in this situation is for the Purple Dragons to make a reappearance. 

He presses the speed dial for Donnie, rushing back over to Leo’s prone form as the ringing continues. Two times...three times...four— 

_ “Mikey?” _

“Don, I need—”

_ “We’ve been trying to call you for, like, ten minutes! What happened? Are you alright?” _

“Erm,” Mikey looks down to Leo’s panting and gurgling form, “ _ I’m _ perfectly ready to rumble personally but I  _ really _ need you to get here, Donnie.”

_ “Oh, sh-shoot...is it worse? Raph told me Leo got hit by a bus? You gotta tell me what’s wrong with him, Mikey.” _

“Just get here and see for yourself, man!”

Raph’s the one who answers, so he’s apparently on speaker,  _ “We just got to the Battleshell, Mikey. We’re still on the other side of Jersey.” _

Mikey’s shoulders shoot upward, “What the shell is taking so long, guys!”

_ “Mikey, you need to tell me what’s wrong so I know when we get to the meeting spot.” _

Mikey pauses, forcing his gaze away from Leo’s struggling form. He brings a shaky hand up to cover his eyes, “We’re not going to be able to get to the meeting spot, Donnie.”

Raph mumbles a collection of expletives and Mikey knows from his lack of comment that he must be driving, probably pressing even harder on the gas and weaving in and out of traffic. He can almost picture it from all the other times Raph has gotten worked up while driving. 

_ “Mikey, is it serious,”  _ Donnie asks, “ _ Like... _ serious _ serious.” _

Leo chokes just as Mikey is about to answer, struggling to throw his head and shoulder sideways as he hacks out globs of blood that paints his lips, chin and neck crimson. Mikey drops the phone without another thought, shoving his hands under Leo’s body and rolling him onto his side, supported by the wall behind him. Leo doesn’t respond more than a suffering gasp as he’s rotated, a far away look in his eyes as he rests his head on the floor, a puddle of blood already pooling around his unbruised cheek. 

Mikey grits his teeth, wanting so very badly to scurry away from the carnage but simultaneously wanting to just wrap his arms around his brother and force all the pain away. What ends up happening instead is that fat tears just start rolling down his face as he grapples with his phone.

“Yes, yes, Donnie!” Mikey sobs into the phone, “It’s serious, God, he’s having problems breathing and, and he’s not talking anymore. We talked the entire time before the Dragons attacked us! Why isn’t he talking now?  _ Fuck,  _ when are you getting here?”

Leo doesn’t even respond to Mikey’s outburst which just increases the franticity of his sniffling.

_ “Mikey, deep breaths, deep breath—” _

“Leo can’t take deep breaths!” Because that somehow relates to  _ his  _ problem, but it seems to have the desired effects.

_ “Mikey, listen to me, alright?”  _ Donnie’s voice comes across the line and for once Mikey wishes that Raph would say something, too, just so he feels even more less alone,  _ “Listen. You need to calm down and focus now, alright? I know this is freaking you out, I’m sure Raph and I would be freaking out too, if we were in the same situation, but what the two of us need right now are answers so we can help you, alright?” _

Mikey nods, as though he thinks that Donnie can see it. He takes a deep shuddering breath, shakily placing a hand gently on Leo’s wounded arm, “Okay.”

_ “You’re a badass, Mikey, _ ” Raph says before once more going silent. Mikey hopes that later he might feel some comfort in the rare compliment. 

_ “Okay, firstly I’ve already input your coordinates into our GPS from the tracker in your phone,”  _ Donnie explains. Leo shudders underneath Mikey’s palm, a miserable gasp escaping him and Mikey just closes his eyes,  _ “We’re on our way. We’re going as fast as we’re able. But, where are you? Are you hidden somewhere? On a roof?” _

Mikey shakes his head to himself, “No, I got us into a cellar. It’s in an alley right next to the hotel. You’ll...you’ll probably be able to see blood to tell which one it is.”

That comment hangs sinisterly in the heavy-breathing occupied silence, but Donnie moves on almost gracefully,  _ “Okay, now, you have to tell me what’s wrong with Leo so I can be prepared and treat his right away.” _

Mikey feels a pit form in his stomach, “Okay, um…”

He looks to Leo and notes off the basic stuff first, “Hit his head pretty hard—has a cut above his eye. I think there’s something wrong with his leg, but I don’t know what. And I am almost confident that his, um...his arm is dislocated. Shoulder. Y’know...all bruised and stuff.”

_ “I got it, Mikey,” _ Mikey can already hear Donnie moving around. Probably digging through bags and searching for containers that they have in the back of the Battle Shell,  _ “What else?” _

Mikey prepares himself, “Jeez, he can’t breath. He keeps coughing and hacking up blood and, it’s just...I don’t know what to do for him, Don. Leo said he thinks it’s something inside.”

_ “I, um,”  _ Donnie inhales shakily, all his movements halting and Mikey thinks he can faintly hear Raph saying  _ something _ in the background, though he can’t understand it he can tell that it’s said quickly and questioningly, “ _ I think he’s right, Mikey.” _

There’s a long pause and Mikey feels like it might as well be torture. The gasping has turned desperate, Leo’s teeth clench every few breaths, tinted red. Mikey’s fairly surprised when he sees Leo’s gaze meet his own. He refuses to turn away once their eyes have met, “Donnie?”

Donnie sighs and Mikey can tell that it’s the product of bad news. He feels cold at that. Even more cold then the rain and the cellar have made him, “ _ You’re going to hate me, Mikey.” _

“I won't, I promise. Please tell me that it’s not...that he…”

_ “You will, Mikey. You will,”  _ Donnie sighs again,  _ “I don’t think we’re going to get there in time, can you put the phone closer to Leo, please? Speaker?” _

Mikey scrambles to do as he’s told, holding the phone just inches away from Leo and clicks the speaker button. Leo, for his part, glances dazedly away from Mikey to the device. He seems to realize what is going on almost immediately. His eyes light up for a moment, “D—nie? D—”

“ _ Hi Leo _ ,” Don’s voice is warm, and refuses to spell out the complete and utter anxiety ridden venture they’re in the middle of, “ _ Listen, Mikey. I know what’s wrong.” _

Mikey lets out a relieved laugh, “Good! What do I need to do? Get him some water or something or?”

_ “He has something called a tension pneumothorax,”  _ Donnie says and Mikey can hear how Raph begins pummeling the steering wheel in the background. The ice around his heart grows even colder,  _ “It means his lung is collapsing. Air is crushing it while blood is going into it simultaneously.” _

Mikey flinches as if jolted with electricity, “What? H-how the shell did  _ that _ happen?”

_ “It means his ribs are broken, and one of them moved and punctured one of his lungs,”  _ Mikey feels the panic rising back up into his chest. When he looks to Leo, he can see his older brother glaring down to the blood puddle growing by his face, “ _ But, Mikey, before we fix it we need to find out which side and which rib. You remember how to check for broken ribs, right?” _

The ‘we’ in his directions are taken graciously. Mikey doesn’t even answer, because he knows that Donnie’s aware that he taught them all that basic skill. Since they had their plastrons and their shells they couldn’t feel much else other than the side where the slightly softer material covered. 

Mikey leans further over Leo, setting the phone down on the ground by Leo’s head. He manages to get Leo’s wounded arm out of the way with little more than a grunt from his brother and feels up and down his side. Sure enough— the left side’s ribs, just like everything else, give under his prodding. 

Leo practically yowls, a gurgling and wispy sound accompanying it and Mikey pushes himself away like he’s been slapped across the face. The distressed look on Leo’s face shatters Mikey’s heart, but the sudden tear streaks running down his face as he battles his own body for breath brings back the stinging behind Mikey’s eyes. 

“The,” Mikey clears his throat when he finds it garbled and weak, “The left side has at least 3. That’s the side that all his other injuries are on.”

_ “The side he got hit?” _

“...yeah,” Mikey whispers. 

_ “Alright,” Donnie says, and then, “Okay. You need to roll him onto his stomach, Mikey. The shell will be too unstable for what you’re going to have to do.” _

“Woah, woah, woah, what am I going to be doing?”

_ “To get rid of pneumothorax, you have to create a passage for air to escape out of,” Donnie pauses, as though he’s searching for the right words, “You’re going to have to stab him, Mikey.” _

Mikey’s pretty sure he’s stopped breathing himself.

_ “Right between the 3rd and forth ribs so you don’t end up stabbing his heart.” _

What the…

_ “About 4 inches into his chest cavity.” _

What the  _ fuck? _

“Donnie,” Mikey mumbles, “Donnie, Donnie, Donnie no. No!”

_ “I’m sorry, Mikey.” _

“Nope, I-I-I can’t, Donnie. How the...how am I supposed to—”

_ “It has to be done, Mikey. I can hear Leo...rather, I am beginning to have trouble hearing Leo’s breathing. He doesn’t have the amount of time it’s going to take us to get through this traffic to the two of you, okay? This is our only option—” _

“I can’t!”

_ “— or Leo’s going to die.” _

Mikey freezes, noticing Donnie’s earlier observation. Leo’s breaths, which only moments ago were desperate pants for air, are now barely moving his chest. His eyes are open to slits staring at the phone sitting right by his head in bewilderment. 

Mikey’s lip trembles. 

He can’t do this. He’s barely even practiced with a sword. That’s almost  _ entirely _ Leo’s thing. He remembers holding one for when they were young, before being assigned their weapons. If it had been a real metal sword instead of a wooden practice one, he would have chopped Raph’s head clean off.

And now he’s being expected to stab his brother  _ gently _ . 

What the— 

A soft pressure against Mikey’s fingers snap him out of his daze. Right beside his hand is Leo’s, the one not pinned under his body. The dislocated one, moves slightly towards Mikey’s own hand, bumping it knuckle-to-knuckle. 

Mikey sniffs, glancing at Leo who’s watching him with warm eyes despite the situation, “Mi…”

Nothing else comes out. Mikey clenches his teeth. Leo jumped in front of a bus for him earlier. And if it was Mikey in Leo’s place, Mikey knows that Leo would do whatever it took to save his life. Even if he had to risk killing him to do it. 

Mikey takes a deep breath, “Okay, Donnie.”

Leo’s eyes close. 

Mikey rolls him over to his stomach, pulls a sword out from a scabbard as though they’re made of artisan glass, nauseatingly places the tip of the sword where Donnie explains thoroughly. When Leo doesn’t react to the stab, Mikey feels like he might actually throw up, but once Mikey begins slowly pulling the sword out he feels a weird gust of air. 

His brother gasps in a greedy and long awaited breath. 

Donnie and Raph arrive at their location fifteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donnie and Raph speed to their oldest and youngest brothers' aid.

_“Mikey, move!”_

_There’s a sharp shove on Mikey’s shell, and it steals his attention away from the gun pointing at him only feet away. He stumbles, knees colliding with the ground and he rolls. His shell scrapes against the asphalt in a painful nails-on-chalkboard sound and Mikey grimaces, the jolt of hitting the ground knocking the air right out of him._

_There’s a loud screeching somewhere in his periphery but he’s too focused on the fact that he just got shoved to the ground and that the gun might_ still _be pointed at him. He can’t breathe. Sounds are all...echoey. He can almost hear Donnie trying to explain how his diaphragm is spasming or blah blah blah…_

_It doesn’t matter._

_Not really._

_Not now._

_He looks to his side. He’s no longer surrounded by numerous Purple Dragons. Instead, there’s a bus lit up with its internal lighting parked only a few feet away from him. And it definitely wasn’t there before…_

_What happened?_

_Sucking in a miserable gasp, Mikey forces himself up to his knees. He can still hear the voices of Purple Dragons on the other side of the bus. So...whoever pushed him must have pushed him_ away _from the bus, then? Well, that’s oddly out of character for a Purple Drag—_

_Mikey’s blood runs cold. Scanning the front of the bus, he can see an abandoned katana laying on the ground just out of reach of a limp green hand peeking out from behind the bus’ tire._

_That was Leo’s voice that told him to move._

_It was Leo who pushed him._

_Oh God—_

_~~~_

Any other time, Donnie would probably have yelled at Raph for taking such sharp turns and speeding so quickly through the city at this time. The last thing they ever needed was for the police to try and pull them over. He couldn’t even count how many ways something like that could go wrong. 

Now, however, Donnie barely even realizes he’s slid into the passenger door with enough force to bruise. He clutches his T-Phone tightly in his hands, staring at the map shown on the screen and zoning everything else out other than the sounds coming through from the phone. 

“Turn left up here,” Donnie, orders quietly. The tires screech when Raph slams on the breaks. From the corner of his eye, Donnie can see the stiff posture that Raph has in the driver’s seat. The way his knuckles are clenched painfully around the steering wheel. 

Donnie can’t afford to speak words of comfort right now. Not to Raph, at least. 

“Update me, Mikey,” Donnie says, forcing some form of warmth into his tone. Mikey never did respond well to other people’s nerves. He responded to certainty. To strong opinions and thoughts— whether to oppose them or to support them. The point being, Donnie knows he _cannot_ lose his cool now, “How’s it going— how’s Leo?”

There’s a hefty pause on the other end that only brings attention to how badly Donnie’s hands are shaking.

_“Uh...I, uh, I think it’s going— it’s going fine?”_

Donnie sighs, “Alright, okay, can you give me more details?”

Donnie quickly covers the mouthpiece of the phone, turning his attention to Raph, “It’s just down this street. Keep going straight. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Raph simply nods, his teeth obviously clenched. 

_“Um...he’s breathing easier...I think. He’s still gasping a little. I...don’t know if he’s awake,”_ there’s another pause, _“Please tell me you’re almost here, Donnie.”_

“We are. We are, Mikey, trust me. Raph is driving as fast as he can. Don’t worry.”

 _“Okay then, I’ll—”_ There’s a sudden gasp and clatter from the other end of the phone line, and if Donnie _had_ hair it’d be sticking up on end.

“Mikey? Mikey!” No answer and suddenly the line cuts out. Donnie feels like he’s been kicked in the chest, and when he turns to Raph his older brother looks stricken as well. A strange glint of _something_ in his usually shadowed and guarded gaze.

“What the Hell happened?”

Donnie shakes his head, frantically pointing ahead towards an alleyway nearly two blocks away, “I don’t know, pull in there. That’s the spot.”

Raph grumbles something under his breath, and a solid minute later Donnie can feel the graceless parking job Raph pulls off, the jolt of a bump as he goes up onto the curb. Not many people are around at that moment. It’s early enough and in a residential area— meaning that they don’t have much time before the street is swarmed by people heading off. 

“Alright, let’s go—” Donnie’s in the middle of tucking his T-Phone away when Raph reaches over and grabs his forearm in a vice-like grip. Donnie has a question on his lips but it dies when he sees Raph’s gaze focusing on something dead ahead. 

“Don, look at that…”

Somewhere deep in Donnie, he expected Raph to be pointing at a macabre painting of blood strewn across the street and into the alleyway. Or many like...a _limb_ ? Worst case scenarios fly through Donnie’s brain before he registers the very not-turtle-like individual hiding in the shadows. The glint of some sort of silver weapon— a _gun_. 

Just a few feet from them are some Purple Dragons definitely not even attempting at hiding from _anyone_. One holds a baseball bat, the other a grisly looking machete and a walkie-talkie in his other hand. 

Donnie suddenly feels the muscles in his arms tense, and doesn’t even realize Raph’s grip leaving his forearm, “They followed them.”

“Goddamnit— does it look like they found ‘em? I can’t tell…”

Donnie shakes his head, taking note of the way the three individuals they can see wander aimlessly at the end of the alleyway. Too invested in their own situation to even notice the BattleShell parked on the other side of the street, “I think they’re still looking, but…”

Mikey had become distracted by _something_ . There was a clatter. The first thing he thought of was that he had dropped the sword he was using— Leo’s sword. But...that would have made a metallic sound. A _clang_ , the sound Donnie heard before the line ended was like wood-on-wood. Like trying to break into a house. Or...

“But what?”

“I think they’re onto them,” Donnie says in a rush, pulling his Bo Staff from his back, “Let’s go.”

Raph nods, “After you.”

Raph’s the first one out of the Battle Shell, and Donnie only barely catches the glimpse of him traipsing up a couple of windows on the nearby apartment building. Donnie follows, waiting for when the group of three Purple Dragons turns before following his older brother up. Raph finds the perfect vantage point, a somewhat-sturdy flagpole somehow managing to assist Donnie _and_ Raph in keeping their balance on their chosen window sills. 

“Definitely more than three…”

Donnie ignores Raph’s comment, taking note of the group of five or so Dragons wrestling with one cellar in particular. 

“That one,” Donnie whispers to Raph, “Right there. I’m almost confident they’re in that one.”

Raph grunts, eyeing the Purple Dragons wrestling with the handles and latch to no avail. Donnie smiles. Mikey probably thought of them being followed. Even in the middle of panicking about Leo, he remembered to secure the area he took refuge in first and foremost. To ensure Mikey’s _own_ safety before Leo’s so that he could inevitably take care of the older turtle. It’s something that Leo had explained during plenty of topside-gone-wrong events. 

...Leo would be proud…

And Donnie will be sure to tell Leo, just as soon as Raph and him get all of them back to the lair safe and sound. 

“Raph, do you think you could cause a distraction?”

Raph quirks a masked brow, “Distraction?”

“To pull all of their attention away from the cellar.”

Raph makes a face, glancing down at the alley. Donnie could count eleven Purple Dragons in total— three at the end of the alley, two at the other end, the five beating at the cellar door, and one walking the length of the area. Not great odds necessarily. Two against eleven wasn’t fair…

But in this case it wasn’t fair for the Purple Dragons. 

Donnie’s concern was making sure they didn’t do anything to Mikey or Leo during their scuffle. 

“I’ll come up from behind and we’ll take care of them lickity split,” Donnie explains with one of his fists connecting with hsi opposite palm, “Then we can check on Mikey and Leo.”

Raph smirks a little at that, nods, and disappears from their window sill. 

In a matter of approximately five minutes, Raph lures all the Purple Dragons away from the cellar, Donnie takes out three with blows to the head before the rest even know what’s going on, Raph’s body slammed two to the ground in a miserable heap, and the rest get beaten to a pulp as fast as Donnie and Raph can manage. 

“I don’t…” Donnie pants, slipping his Bo Staff back into his back holster, “I don’t know how long it’ll be until reinforcements come.”

Raph scratches his temple with the handle of his Sai, side eyeing Donnie, “Then let’s get our brothers an’ get the Hell outa here.”

Donnie doesn’t need any convincing. The two of them sprint for the cellar. Donnie steps in something and, with Raph knocking and calling for Mikey right beside him, Donnie’s stomach sinks as he finds himself stepping in a small puddle of red. Sticky and tacky. Already drying despite the dewey morning. Leo’s blood. 

The cellar door gets ripped open, a wayward broom already in the process of plummeting to the ground behind a crimson-soaked Mikey. Wide blue eyes stare up at Raph and Donnie and before the two of them know it, Mikey’s arms are wrapped entirely around both of their necks. 

“Oh _God_ , guys!” Mikey practically shouts, “Talk about timing! I thought I was going to have to take on all of those guys alone and— 

Raph rips himself away from Mikey’s hold, rushing past and deeper into the cellar. 

“— I didn’t _actually_ know how many were out there. Like, what if there were dozens— what if all of them that Leo and I had escaped from had followed. I didn’t know! And Leo wasn’t really responding to me anymore so I—” 

“Donnie!”

Mikey’s rambling is abruptly cut short. Donnie’s still reeling from the fight and Mikey’s tight grasp and words that he probably doesn’t respond correctly when he looks past Mikey's shoulder to the still figure Raph is currently kneeling beside. 

Donnie stares for a long moment, taking in the sight. Of Mikey’s entire right side of his body caked in blood. Of his bug-eyes and stricken eyes bearing into Donnie’s own. Leo collapsed onto his stomach, a thin stream of blood flowing from an incision in his side— the weapon that did it lying right beside him. Placed with care. Like someone had set it down as though it were made from a butterfly’s wing. 

Leo’s closed eyes, face facing towards Donnie. 

It all clicks back into place. 

Without another thought, Donnie pushes past Mikey as well and joins Raph beside Leo. Raph for his part scoots away a bit to give Donnie room. And Donnie for his part...kneels there, hands hovering over Leo like he doesn’t know where to touch him. 

There’s nasty patterns of bruising covering Leo’s entire left side, practically. His shoulder is warped, a strange bulbous look around his collarbone that definitely isn’t normal. Probably dislocated, just like Mikey had warned him about. Splotches of bruises run down Leo’s hip, covering his knee and even webbing down to his ankle. And of course... _of course_ , the mid-section. Spider-webs of cracks running across the left side of his plastron and shell...the _incision…_

“Jesus...Leo…”

Donnie can feel Mikey hovering nervously behind him, and can feel Raph forcing himself to try hold back any impatience. Raph’s probably screaming inside. Wanting to help but knowing he can’t. Knowing he’s completely reliant on Donnie who’s just... _staring…_

“Donnie,” Raph starts, “Deep breath. C’mon.”

And Donnie does take one, the air whistling through his teeth with its vigor. He takes another one before ripping his eyes away from Leo.

“Listen, alright,” Donnie starts, glancing from Raph to Mikey, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to do much here. We need to get back to the lair. I need equipment to even _attempt_ to fix all this—”

“What do you mean ‘attempt’,” Mikey asks in a small voice, hands wringing together. It’s an image that should never be allowed to exist again. The blood stark against his skin and the deer-in-headlights look. If Donnie has any say in it, he will _not_ allow for Mikey to look this way again.

“We’ve never really dealt with something like this, Mikey.”

“We’ve _all_ had broken ribs before!”

Raph growls, “Mikey, calm down…”

Donnie sighs at Mikey’s sudden reaction, teeth clacking shut and his emotions being swiftly swept away, “We don’t have much time to discuss this, Mikey, but this is an internal problem. Internal bleeding. A collapsed lung. This is _surgery_ , Mikey. Not just wrapping up our torsos and calling it good.”

Mikey stares with wide eyes, and out of the corner of his eyes, Donnie can see Raph rubbing on hand over his face tiredly. _Nervously._

“But,” Donnie interjects, and it feels wrong _trying_ to be the voice of reason here when the only thing he wants to do is curl up beside Leo on the blood-slick and freezing ground and _cry,_ “I’m going to try. We need to get him into the Battle Shell for now, alright?”

He looks to Raph and that’s all that’s needed for the red banded turtle to stand and wait for instructions, “Where should I grab him…?”

Donnie leans over Leo, motioning as he explains, “Grab under his right shoulder and the center of his shell. The left side is broken— don’t grab ahold of that. I’ll get his legs.”

Raph and Donnie get into position, Raph cringing as he steadily rotates Leo from his front to his shell. A soft groan rumbles in Leo’s chest, and it’s a rare show of affection when Raph subtly smooths his hand over Leo’s brow. Trying to ease the tension there. Provide some comfort.

“What about me?”

Mikey’s voice is almost too small to really hear, but Donnie manages to. He faintly notices Mikey swiping up Leo’s abandoned sword with the question hanging in the air between them. He doesn’t answer, however, until _after_ they manage to heft Leo up into their arms. A loud whistling and hoarse gasp escapes Leo, and he kicks out at Donnie as though to escape his attacker. It makes Donnie’s stomach sink even deeper, a sting behind his eyes. The last thing he wants to be mistaken for is someone who would do _this_ to his big brother _by_ his big brother.

Raph leads the way out of the cellar in the end, eyes downcast and obviously guarded emotions beginning to bubble up to the surface. Donnie pretends not to notice the watery gleam of Raph’s eyes. 

“Mikey, make sure nobody has gotten up, okay? Keep a lookout.”

With his new task, Mike seems more like himself. He runs past the three of them, skidding into the middle of the alley. 

In the end, none of the Purple Dragons have gotten up. All of them still collapsed where Donnie and Raph put them. And no one on the street sees them, either. Despite multiple people heading outside to begin their shift at work, the three— _four_ of them manage to sneak past and into the safety of the Battle Shell. 

Perhaps whatever sort of deity determines who gets to have a hard time and who gets some slack has finally decided to lay off a bit.

And, hopefully, thinks Donnie as he settles into the back of the Battle Shell beside Leo and with Raph in the driver's seat and Mikey in the passenger seat, they’ll continue to be allowed some slack…

 _Hopefully._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (There will be another chapter)  
> (It will probably be in Raph's perspective)  
> (I want to write him coddling Mikey, damnit. My needs aren't too out of orbit!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raph's POV  
> So obvious, there's plenty of colorful language

Once again he finds himself in the driver's seat, unable to do much of anything other than drive forward as fast as he can manage. His foot feels heavy on the gas pedal and he has to forcibly pull it upward so as to not get the attention of any police. That’s the last thing they need right now. To be chased by some fucking cops. 

This day has  _ already _ been a goddamn nightmare…

Mikey’s in the seat next to him, eyes glossy with unshed tears and his legs bouncing where they’re pressed against the floor mats. His fingers keep twitching and fumbling with his seat belt and the katanas he has resting in his lap— his eyes are plastered to a space forward, though Raph is pretty sure that he isn’t  _ actually _ seeing anything. Lost to his thoughts. Images that will probably haunt him for a while flashing in his brain on repeat. His arms are  _ completely _ coated in blood, some running down the left side of his plastron and shell and Raph knows then that they have  _ two _ brothers they’re going to have to take care of when they get home. 

“Mikey,” Raph says evenly which he has to credit himself with considering his heart feels like its about to rip out of his fucking chest, “think ya can call Master Splinter?”

Mikey’s gaze snaps towards him, his wide eyes taking in Raph for a second as though he can’t quite comprehend what he’s just been asked. But a moment later he’s fumbling with his belt and shakily dialing Splinter. It seems a bit cruel to Raph, to force Mikey into action when he’s clearly in shock, but right now all he wants to do is keep Mikey focused on  _ something _ instead of thinking about the complete  _ mess  _ in the back of the Battle Shell. 

As Mikey starts speaking with Splinter over the phone, voice low and shaky and practically unable to be heard, Raph peers into the rearview mirror. The first thing he sees is Donnie’s purple bandana moving back and forth as the turtle grapples with different tools and materials sporadically. He can only just make out Donnie’s expression— focused, concerned, on the verge of tears. Damnit…

Raph isn’t made for this type of stuff. 

“Take a deep breath Donnie, we’re almost home.”

Donnie doesn’t look up at Raph, too focused on the task at hand, but Raph does notice how he closes his eyes for the barest of moments before diving back into action. Checking himself. Taking a deep breath. 

Raph sighs, noting that Mikey’s no longer on the phone with Splinter, “What’d he say, Mikey?”

Mikey takes a shaky breath, “He’s getting stuff ready for when we, uh, get home. Like, medical...stuff.”

Not very specific. But when has Mikey ever been specific. Raph nods, forcing himself to slow the Battle Shell down more than he’s comfortable with so he doesn’t make the two individuals in the back fly across the space when he makes his turn. Just one more block...one more alley...one more elevator ride...almost home. 

Raph looks to Mikey, “When we get there, go run ahead and help Splinter.”

He sees the protest on the tip of Mikey’s tongue. Knows that, just like in the cellar, all he wants to do is help Leo— directly. While making sure the coast was clear and, now, assisting with prep was helping more than it seemed, Mikey  _ had _ just fucking  _ stabbed _ Leo. being so indirect after having to do something as hands-on as that has to feel like whiplash. 

No protest comes though. Just another silent nod and Raph finds watching the road even  _ more _ difficult, as if that was possible. With the blood puddling in the back and the small keening noises that sound off every few minutes— broken like they were being held in before forcibly leaving the tattered body. The gentle shushing coming from Donnie when they do. The ripping and tearing of bandages and Donnie’s stethoscope carelessly sliding across the floor as the Battle Shell takes its turn into the alleyway. 

Ahead is their warehouse. The dumpsters and brick walls of the alleyway fly by and the warehouse doors open. Raph cringes when he accidentally slams the breaks harder than he intended and a choked cough erupts from the back. 

Everyone’s in motion then. The warehouse door is just closing by the time that Raph has thrown himself out of the driver's seat and sprinting to the back door. It opens with the press of a button and then Donnie’s looking back towards him, eyes shimmering the same as Mikey’s. It punches the air out of his chest when coupled with the corpse-like form of Leo right in front of him. 

“Jesus…” He’s just about to jump into the back to help Donnie but notices Mikey’s wide-eyed stare only feet away. His eyes flicking from Raph, to Donnie and lingering on Leo. Raph feels terrible about it, but he points towards their elevator door and shouts out a mildly temperate, “Go, Mikey!”

It’s enough. Mikey jolts as if struck by a physical blow, spares Raph the faintest of glances before he’s sprinting for the entrance to their lair. Raph allows himself a single deep breath before he’s hauling himself into the back of the Battle Shell beside Donnie. The floor is sticky where he steps up beside Don. He immediately knows it’s blood before he looks. 

“The fuck is all this blood coming from?”

Donnie sighs, tying off a bandage strip, “Nothing too serious other than the wound in his side. Just some nicks. His head wound— but those always bleed the worst.”

It sates Raph’s desire for good news and he feels his heartbeat slow ever so slightly, “Then what’s the damage lookin’ like?”

“Lung,” Donnie says simply, “That’s the main focus. Let’s get him down to the lair.”

Leo’s apparent broken arm was Donnie’s main focus when he was back here, it seems. It’s wrapped and completely bound to Leo’s chest. He assumes that Donnie would only do so as thoroughly as he has if he had already succeeded in setting it and making sure it wouldn’t burden the rest of his work by being unable to move. It’s probably splinted and everything underneath the layers of wrappings. If nothing else, Donnie is impressive as Hell with his on-the-spot decision making as long as it isn’t tactical. 

“Okay, bud. Up we get,” Raph shoves his hands underneath Leo’s shell, mindful of the spider web of cracks on his side just like before. Leo’s head lulls against his shoulder and a crackling hiss escapes his older brother’s bloodied lips. Raph sighs miserably, making sure that Donnie has a good hold on Leo’s legs before ushering them to the elevator as quickly as they can manage. 

The elevator ride down feels like it takes centuries. Raph can feel the way Leo struggles for breath just by holding onto his shell. He can hear the whistling sound coming from somewhere in his broken body. That small smidgeon of peace he felt at Donnie’s assurance that their wasn’t any serious  _ visual _ wound other than the obvious causing bleeding feels like it’s been stomped on and crushed into the dirt. They’ve never dealt with wounds like this. Sure, broken bones, dislocated limbs, concussions, even a stab wound once (surprisingly, it was Leo’s fault— trying to practice with real swords without Splinter’s guidance when they were younger. Probably why he was such a goodie-two-shoes  _ now _ ). But,  _ this _ . Fucking  _ God _ , Raph thinks and finds himself meeting Donnie’s gaze and he knows they share the same thought but are both too scared to voice it, they’ve  _ never _ dealt with something internal like  _ this _ . 

“Hmph...M’k…?” It’s a low rumbling sound that Raph can only  _ just _ make out in the thunderstorm of thoughts swirling around his mind, but Donnie reacting to the same noise from Leo had Raph snapping his attention to his older brother immediately. 

“What, Leo?” He murmurs quietly into his brother’s ear. Leo tries to lift his head from Raph’s shoulder, much to the younger’s chagrin, but ultimately fails, “Actually, nevermind. Don’t speak. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

Leo, of course, ignores him, “W’res M’ky?”

Donnie inhales sharply, craning his neck to catch Leo’s gaze no doubt. He’s the only one Leo can actually  _ see _ . For all Raph knows, Leo thinks he’s some disembodied voice in his head or something. The thought settles oddly in Raph’s gut. 

Donnie forces the same smile he puts on when he’s about to snap a bone back into place for Mikey. The same smile he had when Raph had crashed his motorcycle and Donnie had to break the news to him once he woke up back at home that he was going to have to build another one— irreparable. It’s the same smile he had when he was explaining to Master Splinter that rats have incredibly delicate respiratory systems and that he should be careful about it. 

It’s sympathetic, but also closed off. Rational. Forced when Donnie doesn’t think he’d be able to deal with the situation calmly otherwise. Let alone be able to calm his family over things he already has the answers to. 

“Don’t worry, Leo,” Donnie starts, the elevator finally stopping, “Mikey’s alright. You’ll see him in a few moments, okay? Just relax.”

The elevator door opens and suddenly Donnie’s fake smile is gone and replaced with a focused glint in his eyes. It’s so jarring that Raph almost trips when Donnie starts moving their group of three towards his lab. 

The lair is dark— the lights turned off as if Master Splinter never turned everything on after waking— if he ever went to sleep. Like he was sitting at home in the dark, realizing that his sons never returned from their expedition to the surface and that he is completely alone. Like it didn’t bother him in the slightest because other things were  _ obviously  _ on his mind, like the feeling of his sons being in trouble somewhere in the city, but not knowing any details. And not wanting to call them out of fear of the ringtone revealing their position to enemies out to kill them. 

Raph’s frown deepens at the thought, 

The light in the lab is a great contrast to the rest of the lair. Bright overhead white light and a lamp set up beside a cot covered with the throw blanket they always have out on the couch. Mikey is standing off to the side, seemingly interrupted from his task of bringing a bowl of water in from the kitchen by the sight of them entering. Splinter is a more immediate sight, jogging over to them from where he had been setting up bandages and alcohol on a side table. His fur is ruffled in places, as if he had been running his hands through the strands repeatedly— out of stress? Raph hasn't seen him in such a way for a long time. 

Splinter strides alongside Raph and Donnie as they leverage Leo between them, “Oh, no...Leonardo…”

Raph steps past Splinter heaving Leo over onto the cot. His hand lingers on his older brother’s uninjured shoulder, but he forces himself to squeeze it tenderly once before forcing himself away. Splinter takes Raph’s place, leaning over Leo with a hand that keeps pressing against different parts of his body. It comes to rest ultimately on Leo’s unbruised cheek, his thumb gliding just below Leo’s eye. As though their father is willing for Leo to open them. 

Only when Donnie begins soaking a washrag in the bowl of water beside the cot does Raph realize that Mikey has slipped away from their little group. Further, practically in the corner, Mikey stands with wide eyes as he clutches Leo’s swords to his chest like a lifeline. Raph hesitates in walking over to his little brother, not wanting to stray too far from the place of activity but knows that there’s nothing for him to do anymore. 

He strides to Mikey’s side, noticing how Mikey doesn’t even grace him with a glance. He slowly rests a hand on Mikey’s shoulder and is about to say something but is stopped by Splinter speaking.

“What happened up there?” He asks, moving out of the way as Donnie comes in with washrag to scrub at the drying blood crusting over Leo’s skin and plastron, “Michelangelo said there was an ‘accident’?”

Donnie nods, “Yes. We ran into Purple Dragons up top. Mikey said that they got surrounded and Leo ultimately got hit by a  _ bus _ .”

Splinter’s shoulders jump up, obviously startled. He doesn’t ask the obvious questions he normally does. Wondering if they were seen or followed or both. Or whether any innocent individual got pulled into the mess. If the Shredder was involved in some way. If they’re alright. 

Because the answers obviously don’t matter at the moment other than the last, and he already knows the answer to that one. 

Mikey mumbles something that Raph can’t quite hear beside him, “Wha’ was that?”

Mikey’s eyes slowly spark with something, becoming more and more glossy by the second until tears are full on flowing down his cheeks, breaths coming in miserable gasps, “S-sensei! I’m so sorry, Leo p-pushed me— he got like this bec-because of me! I-I-I didn’t move!”

Splinter looks like he’s torn between staying beside Leo and moving to comfort Mikey. He ultimately doesn’t have to make a choice, however. An uncovered green arm rises slowly from the cot, tapping against Splinter’s arm enough to startle the old rat. 

“Wh’re’s Mi’k..?” the question is breathed out, Leo’s eyes, or one, rather—the other being almost swollen shut by now, stares blankly up at the ceiling, clearly lost as to what’s going on at the moment, “Hhnn...F-fath—”

Donnie gently pushes Leo’s head to the side letting gravity lull Leo’s head so he can see both Master Splinter and Mikey beside Raph on the other side of the room. Raph doesn’t quite know if his older brother can actually  _ see _ anything right now. If the shapes he sees are just blurs and their voices are just mumbled noises he can’t make sense of. He cringes, gripping Mikey’s shoulder tighter. 

“My son?” Splinter tries, moving directly into his line of sight for a moment only before moving aside and pointing back at Mikey’s crying form, “Your brother is over there, Leonardo.”

Leo stares for a moment before some of the tension in his body seems to relax slightly. Raph can see the pleased glint in his father’s eyes at this; can see how Donnie seems hesitant to interrupt Leo’s one moment of apparent peace. 

“Donatello is to your left, and Raphael is beside Michelangelo. I am right here,” Splinter continues, setting a hand on Leo’s head, “We are all here, and you will be perfectly okay, my son.”

The rest of the tension in Leo’s shoulders bleed out almost instantly, his eyes staying locked on Mikey’s form until his eyes finally slide shut. 

Raph immediately grabs ahold of Mikey’s hand and practically drags him from the lab. Even if the lair is darkened, Raph can see where the couch in the living room is perfectly fine in the light coming from the lab. He pushes Mikey towards it, practically forcing his youngest brother down onto it with a forceful, “Sit.”

Mikey lets himself be pushed around for the most part, still clinging to Leo’s damn swords. Raph sits beside his little brother, a deep sigh rumbling in his chest as he grabs a hold of the sheathed blades, “Can ya let go of them, Mikey?”

And he does. With little more than a fluttery blink of his eyes, his grip on the katanas goes slack and Raph pulls the swords free, setting them a little more gently than he’d ever admit onto the ground beside the couch. He doesn’t get why Mikey’s so desperate to hang onto the damn things. He would think that he’d be sickened by the very sight of them, seeing as he was forced to stab Leo with one only, like, less than an hour before. 

“Last time Leo couldn’t keep track of his sword because he was hurt,” Mikey says, and Raph snaps his attention towards him, startled by the fact that he had either been mumbling his thoughts without knowing it or Mikey had somehow developed a mind reading power of some sort—  _ not _ good,” He kept asking April and I where they were. And then you and him had to make new ones at the farmhouse. So, I figured, to make sure he wasn’t worried…”

Raph blinks, “You didn’t want Fearless to have to worry about his swords on top of everything else?”

Mikey shrugs, rubbing a hand across the blood flaking on his arms, “Basically.”

Raph grunts. He doesn’t tell Mikey how that makes him feel a pit of pride well up in his chest that Mikey was able to articulate a thought like that during such a stressful moment in that cellar. Knowing Leo, he’d be heartbroken if he  _ once again  _ lost his precious swords. And Raph can’t help the feeling that he wouldn’t want Leo to have to deal with that. Not now. 

“Good job protecting them, Mikey.”

Raph pauses, examining his brother more closely. He still has tears streaming down his face which the youngest seems to ignore as he pick at the blood on his arms and plastron. Raph can tell from closer examination that the blood isn’t from any wound that Mikey bears. A bit of relief fills him with that. There’s a slight tremor in his fingers as he picks, though, just as there’s a tremor to his bottom lip and one to practically his entire body. 

Raph sighs, Mikey’s words to their father coming back to him.

_ ‘S-sensei! I’m so sorry, Leo p-pushed me— he got like this bec-because of me!” _

Raph gingerly reaches up and brushes his finger underneath one of Mikey’s eyes to rid the space of tears. He isn’t good at this. Never had been good at touchy feely bits with his siblings and father. That was all Leo. The mother-hen would do anything for them. So, Raph let Leo do his thing and Raph was able to not have to deal with comforting his siblings. But the startled and yet thankful expression he gets in return seems to make this worth it. 

“Good job protecting  _ him _ , Mikey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Psst...that means there's only one more POV to write)  
> (I bet you can guess whom)  
> (Hint: it's not Splinter)  
> (Other Hint: Leo's not dead)
> 
> Hopefully will have the next chapter up sooner now that finals are done!  
> Thanks for reading!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some much earned fluff, delirium, and an emotional breakdown!

_ From the moment that blood dribbled past his lips while trying to speak to Mikey, Leo knew he was screwed. The actions that  _ got _ him here weren’t regrettable in the slightest, that was sure, but it was regrettable he couldn’t have moved a  _ little _ faster and gotten out of the way of that vehicle. Then he and Mikey would  _ probably  _ already be in their meeting spot, trying to think of victory taunts to get Raph’s temper flaring.  _

_ That’s not how their hand was dealt, however.  _

_ Mikey had dragged him into that cellar and all he really could understand was the fact that he had something  _ seriously _ wrong with his breathing and Mikey was being instructed on how to fix it. Something about his sword. Something about him getting stabbed.  _

_ For some reason, despite Mikey’s voice surrounding him in all of it’s high pitched and scared glory, Leo couldn’t find it in him to feel frightened.  _

_ He managed to push his hand over to Mikey’s to offer whatever comfort he could, there was movement, he heard a few loud and tearful apologies, there was a sharp pinch that made Leo’s face crinkle up like that time Mikey dared him to drink some  _ actual _ ginger ale, and he could suddenly breath again.  _

_ It wasn’t long until there was all sorts of movement around him. Reds and oranges and purples all swimming together above him. He would jump scenes almost. Black out for a second and be in a completely different area. One moment he could see Donnie in front of him and Raph’s bandana hanging in front of his face, and the next he was laying on something that was rumbling and painful with Donnie sitting above him—tears in his eyes.  _

_ He reached out because that was his job, right? To comfort them? To make sure they were alright? And clearly Donnie was  _ not _ alright. His hand didn’t get very far off the ground before Donnie was grabbing it, sniffling as he did, and spoke one mumbled apology. His arm lit up in a flare of pain as Donnie jerked his hands and everything went black again.  _

_ The next moment that pushed him out of that darkness was Raph yelling something in the distance. Donnie was still above him, eyes drier than they were previously— Thank  _ God _ — and Raph suddenly shambling into the space above him. The colors and forms all bled together. Shapes swirling and fading into one another so it was difficult to see who was speaking when he could hear words, but it ultimately didn’t matter because Leo had the sense that nothing was really being spoken  _ to _ him.  _

_ “—kay, bud. Up...get.” _

_ Leo’s body lurched, hands strewn underneath him. His head was lent up against something and he could feel the breath leave him as he was hauled up into the air.  _

_ He was half fading— moving in and out from the darkness, but the scene never really changed. He thought...he recognized the place they were in. Something related to their home. More importantly, Leo could see the top of Donnie’s head in front of him, his own head angled too far upward to be able to see his brother all the way… _

_ The one person he hadn't seen in a while… _

_ Mikey. _

_ “Hmph...M’k…?” is about all he could manage. While breathing was easier than before his lungs still left him quickly and he found himself more breathless than not.  _

_ “...Leo?” _

_ He took another uneven and unbearable breath of air, ““W’res M’ky?” _

_ Donnie leaned more into his line of sight, saying  _ something _ that Leo really doesn’t catch because the blackness is coming back.  _

_ And then he’s surrounded by light. Just, bright  _ scalding _ light that takes up  _ everything _ around him. Voices are around him. He’s laid on something warm for once instead of the metal floor of their Battle Shell or the concrete floor of that cellar. There’s...crying. Somewhere in his periphery and that doesn’t sit right with him so he forces his eyes to remain open so then at least he has more of a possibility of seeing whoever is in a crisis.  _

_ “Wh’re’s Mi’k..?” _

_ That seemed about right. That was his question from earlier...the question that wasn’t really answered and he feels like he  _ really needs to know— 

_ There was the rustle of clothing near his right side, the smell of herbs invading Leo’s senses and he recognizes who is near him  _ instantly _.  _

_ “Hhnn...F-fath—” _

_ Something pushed against his face and suddenly his world is titling. The lights flicker across his vision like a kaleidoscope, flashes and rings of it blending everything together. But  _ there _ , in the distance, he saw a splash of orange and, beside it, a flash of red. Both surrounded by a familiar tint of green.  _

_ Someone is speaking beside him, and he notices that there was all very suddenly something stroking his head— something warm and inviting.  _

_ “Donatello is to … Raphael...beside Michelangelo. I...here ...We are...here, and you will…’kay, my son.” _

_ None of it made perfect sense and yet all of it lends some sort of relief. The colors around him. The smells. The names he should be able to put to faces but somehow he was struggling to even remember his own.  _

_ So he just let the relief settle over him, staring at the orange and the red in the distance and allowing for the warm sensation stroking his head to lull him back into the darkness.  _

_ ~~~ _

He only knows that he’s not supposed to be awake yet because the pain he remembers from before isn’t gone yet. There’s tendrils of thrumming pain lacing up his left side, a burning numbness in his arm— like the nerves there are out of whack and trying to figure out the situation themselves. There’s something tugging at his leg. Though he can’t hope to see it. Despite how he tries to. 

Only the right side of his vision is available to him when he opens his eyes, no matter how hard he strains to open both. The sight in that one eye isn’t very good anyways, almost like he’s under murky water. The lines of objects above him warp and intertwine into illegible shapes. 

Something yanks at his leg again and a small sound uncontrollably hums from Leo’s parted lips. Leo doesn’t even notice he’s made the sound until there’s more movement around him, a firm yet gentle grasp near where the tugging was taking place. That means there’s people around him and, somewhere in his fogged mind, Leo’s certain that they’re his family. 

He leverages his head up slightly, trying to see who was by his leg. He catches the barest glance of wide eyes surrounded by purple— Donnie, his mind supplies. His mouth moving. Saying something that Leo’s ears don’t pick up on. A long line of bloodied thread hangs from his hand, a shining needle between his fingers. 

His face is suddenly yanked away from the sight, his brain spinning and the edges of his vision blacking out. Two hands are on either side of his face and it takes him a long moment not only to feel the tugging at his leg starting back up at a quicker pace, but also to notice the wide eyes staring into his own, red taking up the majority of his vision. 

Leo hums again, trying to look back to his leg—Donnie—knowing that Donnie’s always the one to look to when he needs answers and, sparingly, comfort. Raph usually only brings teasing or grief with him. Leo doesn’t think he can handle that quite yet. 

The hands don’t let him turn away. 

“—ey.”

The fingers thrum against Leo’s cheeks and he  _ somehow _ manages to focus on Raph’s mouth— moving. Forming words. Probably words directed towards him. Leo hums again, fighting against the darkness at the edges of his vision. 

“—ou’re fine, Fe—less. It’s okay,” Raph’s voice is soft, something Leo has only heard rarely. Like when Mikey found a dead rat in the sewer and couldn’t stop crying or when Master Splinter accidentally burned his hand on his teapot, “Don’t look at it, ‘kay? Leo?”

Leo hums again, eyelids flickering. The darkness pushes further into his sight. Raph peers over Leo and says something to Donnie that Leo doesn’t quite catch. 

“Pass out,” Raph’s looking at him again, one of his thumbs sliding back and forth on his bruised cheekbone. Leo tastes copper. Did he taste copper before? That’s not normal...and where’s...where’s Mikey? Or Splinter? Leo finds the darkness receding slightly, the pain that was beginning to numb coming back for a split second at full force, eliciting a full-body flinch. 

“Leo,” the thumb is stroking his cheekbone more vigorously, something painful shimmering in Raph’s eyes, “C’mon, man. It’s fine… pass out. Go ahead. We’re fine.”

Leo, for some reason, finds himself agreeing with Raph. 

And promptly chooses to pass out. 

_ ~~~ _

When he wakes up again, there is no blurring lights and colors— no ringing in his ears that makes everything sound like it’s coming through a blow horn. The lights that are around him are dull and a yellow color. Warm. Something more homey about them and less like he’s about to be dissected. He hums to himself, knowing that he has no intention of forcing himself to move at that moment— because his body seems to be refusing completely. 

His mind is...floaty. Not like before, where it was accompanied by fear and confusion and  _ pain _ . There is very little pain now. And very little fear, just...contentment. Comfort. 

Leo peers down at what he is able to see of himself. He recognizes the hue of blue surrounding him. His comforter from his room tucked around him. He also recognizes the freshly cleaned sheen of the wooden cases beside his leg. His katanas are there...for some reason, he realizes, he should be more surprised by how they got there. But...isn’t, really. 

His arm is completely tied to his side with bandages, only one eye seems to be able to look at anything, his knee is pulsating with mild thrums of aching pain, and his breaths, while shallow, aren’t accompanied by the dreaded taste of copper. 

Something brushes against his arm but his reaction time is so slowed down, his working eye feels strained and heavy, his mouth incapable of forming words. Even still, he tilts his head to the side, catching a glimpse of purple standing out against green. A hand snakes into his own and he manages to squeeze it to reassure...Donnie— 

“Don…”

His younger brother smiles tearfully, a heaving exhale leaving him, “I gave you a sedative and some pain relievers, Leo,” the words are spoken slowly and Leo’s thankful. He manages to process what is being said to some degree, “Your body’s healing and needs rest...go back to sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Only then does he notice the other individuals who are blinking at him from around the cot he’s laid up in. Despite his working eye drooping, Leo forces a smile onto his face.

“‘Kay. See ya soon…”

_ ~~~ _

His first night out of the infirmary is...dramatic, to say the least. Donnie forces a crutch into his hand and  _ very _ slowly helps Leo walk through the living room. 

It makes Leo feel the need to roll his eyes, but the thrumming in his leg makes him reconsider the dismissal. He just... _ chooses _ to have this. To let Donnie have this, too. He knows how stressed his younger brother has been, how restless the two of them have been together, for different reasons. 

He practically collapses onto the couch, a mighty sigh heaving from his sore chest. 

He catches Raph and Mikey lingering behind his genius of a brother, the both of them expressing their nervousness in their own ways. Mikey’s practically thrumming in place, hands fumbling with one another. And Raph’s as solid as stone, staring unblinkingly and Leo catches his breath and sets the crutch to the side. 

Master Splinter chooses that very instant to meander into the living room, carrying a cup of tea in hand. Leo chooses to ignore the fact that he can smell the chamomile wafting from it and decides to  _ act _ surprised when Splinter hands the cup to him, holding it steady so Leo’s single usable hand can get a good grip on it. 

Drinking the tea, feeling his eyelids growing heavy as the minutes tick by, and having his family’s concerned eyes following his every move has Leo feeling more out of place than he was expecting. 

Raph sits next to him on the couch and Donnie sits in front of him on the floor. Master Splinter takes up his armchair. Mikey’s the furthest from him, watching yet rarely speaking up. It makes him worry. 

They don’t usually sit together to watch TV anymore, for whatever reason. Each of them having their own thing going on. 

And when he feels the tendrils of sleep wrapping around him, his grip on the tea cup loosening until someone swipes it away, and the sturdy unexpected pressure of someone’s shoulder pressed into his cheek, Leo decides that feeling out of place isn’t so bad. 

~~~

“Well, you’ve done it this time.”

Leo shrinks into himself, a scowl adorning his face as Raph practically towers over him. He’s almost tempted to stand up, to try and hold his ground and defend himself but after three weeks of being practically stalked everywhere he went around the lair he doubts that that would have any effect on his current predicament. Plus, the fact that he’s basically stuck on the floor after having  _ fallen _ . So he decides  _ taking _ the coming verbal abuse is probably the best course of action. 

“I almost want to make you ask me to help you up, but I think I’d feel like an ass, to be honest.”

Leo huffs, “Mikey would help me without the condescending taunts…”

Raph sighs dramatically, “Yeah? Probably…”

The turtle in red turns on his heel, taking a slow step back towards the living room where he had come from. Leo gives an indignant bark of distaste before growling out, “Raph, just...ugh, just help me...please.”

Raph looks over his shoulder without comment. He walks deeper into the living room and Leo thinks that his younger brother  _ actually  _ just left him to crawl on the floor when he bends down, picks up the abandoned crutch Leo left by the couch, and walks back over to Leo. The crutch was jerry rigged for Leo, since he couldn’t get much leverage with all his injuries on one side. An odd hook jutts out at one end to wrap around his shell— despite his love for Donnie’s consideration, Leo hates it. 

Or, rather, hates  _ depending  _ on it. 

Raph seems to see the exact moment Leo comes to the decision that “hate”  _ is _ the correct word for it, “I wasn’t going to leave you here, Fearless. Just getting your walking stick thing.” 

Leo rolls his eyes, glancing sheepishly up at Raph before reaching his hand up for help. Raph takes it without comment, hauling him upward. Leo stumbles, trying to find his balance on his good leg and Raph bears his weight without complaint or any taunts. Leo...appreciates that. Even if Raph’s teasing  _ earlier _ still leaves a lasting taste of irritation in his mouth. 

Leo finally finds his balance with the crutch, and he doesn’t mention how Raph’s hand doesn’t leave his shell until he manages to take a step without falling over. 

“You need to use that thing, Leo,” Raph starts, not following as Leo moves into the kitchen but also not leaving him alone, “I don’t give a damn if you  _ hate _ it, ‘kay? It’s going to keep you from busting your head open again.”

“I get it, Raph!” Leo calls back,  _ finally _ making it into the kitchen and collapsing into one of the chairs, “I get it…”

It had been almost three weeks since he had been dragged home by his family, half dead with a delirious baby brother desperately trying to keep him alive. And he was fine with his family’s attentiveness for, like, the first  _ week _ , but once he was able to move around on his own (with the help of the crutch, apparently— his knee got completely ripped out of socket in the ‘accident’ according to Donnie, so... _ that’s _ great) his family refused to give him any privacy. Which, he guesses is good considering he did just spend five minutes trying to figure out a way of getting off of the floor without alerting his family of his need. Raph, however, had found him before he could figure something out (He tries not to think about the spark of fear that shimmer in Raph’s eyes the moment he turned the corner and saw Leo sprawled on the ground. He’s seen too much of that look from his family to last a lifetime.) 

Leo sighs, leaning forward and running his only usable hand down his face. 

“Leo?”

He drops his hand back to the table, looking disdainfully up as his youngest brother stalls at the threshold of the kitchen. Despite the sour mood he’d been in all day, lethargic yet restless, stirring up every impatient and irritated part of him that exists, Leo smiles at Mikey. 

“Hey, where have you been hiding out?”

Mikey scuffs the ground awkwardly, “Just my room.”

Leo nods, staring down at the table. 

Mikey’s been the one out of the family who has been around him least since he first woke up. Taking his shifts at his bedside during the first few days but then wandering off once Leo was capable of caring for himself more and more with each passing day. Raph had mentioned something about him feeling guilty, which while Leo wasn’t necessarily  _ surprised _ , it still managed to flabbergast him. The prospect that Leo protecting his family somehow also hurt his family was an odd concept he doesn’t know if he’ll ever completely wrap his head around. 

“Were you, uh,” Mikey motions for the fridge, “trying to get something to eat?”

Leo huffs a laugh, “Mostly just trying to get away from Don and Raph for five minutes.”

Mikey smiles warmly and it’s literally enough to make the entire day of struggles worth it, “Well, if you want, I’m about to make some bomb scrambled eggs. I can spare some for your enjoyment.”

Leo leans his head onto the palm of his hand, “Sounds good to me, Chef Michelangelo.”

Mikey cooks in silence. And Leo finds himself fine with it, even if it’s out of the ordinary. He can hear Donnie tinkering in his lab and Raph watching the Monster Truck rally he had been talking about yesterday in the living room. Master Splinter’s burning incense from his room wafts into the kitchen space, as well. 

He doesn’t know he’s dozing until Mikey accidentally bumps his arm while putting the plates out on the table. 

Leo startles, blinking over at Mikey who only stares owlishly at him, “Sorry! I was trying to set these down  _ without _ waking you up, but, uh...failed?”

“I shouldn’t sleep here, anyways,” Leo mumbles, taking the fork that Mikey offers him and looking down at the plate of scrambled eggs that Mikey’s put in front of him. He smiles before beginning to eat. 

Mikey sits down, still eyeing him, “If you’re tired you should probably go nap or something, dude.”

Leo shakes his head, “I already sleep more than I’m awake...I want to stop doing that as soon as possible.”

Leo tries to ignore the way he’s obviously being picked apart by Mikey’s wandering eyes. The way the younger is clearing looking at the bruises on his face that are now far fainter versions of what they were weeks ago. Most a nasty yellowish tint against his green skin but some still a deep brown, like around his eye and forehead. Leo sighs, “I’m fine Mikey.”

“Even if you’re feeling better it doesn’t mean you need to start pushing yourself—”

“ _ Mikey _ .”

Mikey’s mouth clicks shut, teeth clacking together and his eyes narrowing. His eyes look distant, as though he’s lost in thought which is worrying in itself since Mikey  _ rarely _ gets so engrossed in his thoughts that he gets  _ lost _ in them. 

“Are  _ you _ okay?”

Mikey flinches, “ _ Please _ , don’t ask me that.”

Leo blinks, “Why? What happened?”

Mikey actually manages to choke on a laugh, eggs completely forgotten about in front of him, “‘What happened?’ Have you actually been conscious  _ at all _ these past three weeks?”

Leo clenches his jaw but says nothing. Just watches as Mikey rubs a hand down his face, eyes still staring off at nothing. Leo feels something coil in his stomach at the realization of what this is. 

“The last thing you need to be doing, Leo, is asking if  _ I’m  _ okay.”

Leo’s quiet for a long moment, staring at his youngest brother with something akin to sadness in his eyes, “...That’s my job, though.”

Mikey opens his mouth to protest but Leo beats him to it, “I would have done it for any of you three, you realize, right?”

The silence between them is suddenly deafening and Leo is almost willing to yell for Raph to turn up his show so there’s something other than the settling of the oven behind him and Mikey as they stare at one another. 

Mikey, on his part, gapes like a fish out of water, “I...uh, I don’t…”

“I know the position I put you in back there, Mikey,” Leo continues, “And I’m sorry about that—”

Mikey only whispers out a faint, “What?”

“But regardless of if it were you, or Donnie, or Raph standing there, unable to get out of the way in time, I would have done the same thing. And I’m sorry for being selfish and making that decision, but I would rather go through what I did thousands of times rather than what the three of you were put through because of me only once. It’s not a matter of me not thinking you can handle yourself or not, Mikey, it’s a matter of me not having the nerve I need to watch you get put through the same thing that happened to me.”

Leo forces himself to twist his body and completely face his brother, “So, I  _ really  _ do feel the need to ask whether or not you’re okay, Mikey.”

Mikey blinks a solid three times before he finally breaks down and it’s intense enough for Raph to clearly hear it in the living room. The volume gets turned up, just as Leo had silently asked moments ago, which surprises the oldest brother. He expected Raph to come charging in, asking what’s wrong or telling Mikey to ‘grow the fuck up’ or something derogatory. But he doesn’t. He leaves him and Mikey to it, the volume of the TV promising a private conversation. 

Leo almost huffs a laugh,  _ who’d have thought Raph could be so considerate… _

Leo pulls Mikey to him with his one usable arm, gripping him behind his neck and trying his best to form some semblance of a comforting embrace with his awkward position and limited strength. Mikey melts into the hold however. Completely wrapping both arms around Leo, overly tentative of the pressure on Leo’s healing-and-being-held-together-by-glue-but-still-cracked shell. 

“I— I was  _ so _ terrified, Leo,” Mikey murmurs into Leo’s shoulder, “You have no idea what was goin’ through my head, man. I thought you were going t-to die. And every time... _ every time _ I thought things were going to get b-better, something worse would happen and... _ God _ .”

Leo just holds Mikey, not having the words available for comfort yet nor the arm to try and rub circles on his shell like he’d always done before. He just lets Mikey grapple with his abused shell and cry into his shoulder and let his little brother do a little healing of his own. 

“I  _ stabbed _ you…”

Leo can’t help but flinch. Both at the quiet almost shocked tone Mikey says it in and the context of it. Having had it explained to him once he was coherent enough to  _ actually  _ understand what had transpired and what had been done to him and, more specifically, his body. It put everything more into perspective. At the time, forcing his hand to touch Mikey’s own in that cellar, he’d only been concerned with making sure Mikey was alright because of his younger brother’s obvious distress, but  _ now _ , looking back, he’d basically pushed his brother to  _ stab  _ him which is…

Pretty messed up, even if it was necessary. 

“I had to hurt you more even though you— you were  _ already _ suffering, and I—”

“Mikey,  _ that  _ saved my life,” Leo says, and he hopes that Mikey can’t hear the smallness in his voice. How much the fact he was stabbed with his own sword by his own little brother  _ actually  _ jars him, “I wouldn’t have made it home if you hadn’t done it. I’m here because of what  _ you _ did…”

Mikey sniffles, “ _ Still. _ ”

And Leo can only really sigh because  _ yeah _ , that’s pretty much  _ it _ . It had to be done but...he honestly wishes it was anyone  _ other _ than Mikey. Raph would see the rationelle more than Mikey, and would probably be able to cope with the anger he would feel because of it better, as well. He’s used to that sort of thing. And Donnie’s just...Donnie. He’s Mr. Rational thinking and logic. He wouldn’t see the emotional impact as much as Raph or Mikey might, even if it  _ did  _ disturb him somewhat. 

“Yeah,” is all Leo can think to say, “I know...I know.”

He lets Mikey hug him for a long moment after that, waiting for his cries to wind down and the succeeding hiccupping to stop jolting his body before Mikey pulls himself away. He rubs his red rimmed eyes, a miserable frown displayed on his face and it just makes Leo’s heart ache. 

So he just says the only thing he can think of to say. 

“For what it’s worth, Mikey,” Leo says, cupping the side of his face, “I trusted you completely.”

Mikey just stares at him and Leo  _ really _ hopes he isn’t about to make him cry again.

“And I’m glad you did it.”

Mikey snorts, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, “Why would you be glad that I stabbed you?”

And Leo just smiles, looking at the very reason in front of him and knowing the three other reasons were somewhere else lingering about the lair, just waiting to try and tend to his every beck and call even if he didn’t want them to, “Because I’m still here. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye! The End!
> 
> Awesome!
> 
> I love the way that finished fics make you feel afterwards. It's so refreshing. 
> 
> Hope you all have a Merry Christmas!!!


End file.
